We Need To Talk About Kevin (Ryan)
by abbyfillion22
Summary: Ryan's sad backstory as to why he became a cop. I do not own copyrights to the title: We Need to Talk About Kevin
1. Chapter 1

Detective Kevin Ryan approached the crime scene with his head bowed. A teenage boy, about sixteen years old, laid on the basketball court, his body covered in bruises and cuts. There were blood spatters all around him; his backpack lay on the ground next to him; the books spilled out in a heap. His name was Daniel Wagner.

Ryan shook his head in disgust at the world. What had this boy done to deserve this? No one deserved to die like this victim had.

The boy's parents stood to the side behind the police tape. The mother held a handkerchief to her face while her husband spoke softly to an officer. They both had dark hair and blue eyes like their son.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Mr. and Mrs. Wagner," Ryan told the parents. He couldn't possibly imagine what it was like to lose your child; to have them there one day, and then be gone forever the next.

The Wagners nodded, not saying a word. Mrs. Wagner wiped her eyes and folded her tissue distractedly, just as something to do with her hands.

"Is there any reason why Daniel might have been killed?" Ryan asked them, pulling out a notepad. "Any people he had problems with? Was he into drugs or any dangerous activities?"

Mr. Wagner shook his head. "No, nothing like that. Daniel was a good kid, always studying. He got early acceptance into Brown this fall." He said, his voice cracking, as if on the verge of tears. "Daniel, he… he was bullied a lot in school."

"The other kids were jealous of him," said Mrs. Wagner with a sigh. "He would come home with bruises and he wouldn't say where they came from. At first, he would tell us that he fell off his bike. But then we found out that the kids at school would shove him and kick him in the locker rooms and in the halls."

Ryan bit the inside of his cheek. He could see Daniel as being the type to be bullied. He wore thick framed glasses and an argyle sweater. His black Chuck Taylors were scuffed from being over worn. To tell the truth, Daniel was the spitting image of Ryan when he was in high school. He knew why the other kids would pick on Daniel, but it wasn't out of jealousy. People were just mean.

"Did he ever tell you of anyone in particular that picked on him?" asked Ryan.

"Only one person," said Mrs. Wagner. "He used to be Daniel's best friend in grade school. His name was Josh Graham, he's the star center on the basketball team now. One day, Daniel came home crying. He said that Josh and the other jocks had thrown him off of the third floor balcony into the school swimming pool," she said. She turned away from him when she began sobbing again.

"So these bullies, they didn't just make fun of him? They were actually violent," said Ryan.

"Sadly, yes," said Mr. Wagner, consoling his wife. "We had tried to contact the school about it, but they had just said that boys will be boys and there was nothing they could do about it," he said solemnly.

"Thank you, that's very helpful information," said Ryan. "You'll be hearing from Detective Beckett shortly."

They both nodded to him as he retreated to his car to fill out the case's paperwork.

Ryan closed the door and buried his face in his hands. The murder was giving him flashbacks to his high school years when he was bullied. It was the main reason he had become a cop.

It was a cool autumn day at Brooklyn High School. Fifteen year old, Kevin Ryan sat alone on a wooden bench next to the payphone.

Across the lot was the football field where the popular kids were. A group of them sat on the bleachers, laughing and having fun. They were surely talking about the latest blowout party that happened last weekend. Of course, Kevin hadn't been invited, but he had heard that it was fun.

Kevin pushed his glasses back up his nose, trying to focus on his book. He had to finish reading _War & Peace _by next week and write a paper on it. Kevin sighed, wishing that he was hanging out with the cool kids, making plans to hang out after the big game that night.

He looked up when he heard the familiar clang of the fence banging open. He recoiled when he saw who was heading toward him.

It was Lionel Quinn, the All American running back, with his usual horde of friends surrounding him. They were all twice the size of Kevin, but twice as stupid. All eight of them wore the same blue varsity jacket with their numbers stitched on the side.

Kevin frantically started gathering his things, wanting to avoid a run-in with the group that had made his entire freshman year miserable.

It was too late. As he stood up from the bench, Lionel grabbed him by the arm. "Where ya goin' little fella?" he slurred, obviously drunk.

Kevin slouched, clutching his books to his chest.

"Didn't wanna see me, did ja?" said Lionel. His friends cackled behind him. They passed around a flask and some had cigarettes hanging out of their mouths. "C'mon, little buddy, I thought we were _friends_!" He swung an arm around Kevin.

"We'renotfriends," Kevin muttered.

Lionel leaned into him. Kevin could smell the booze and smoke on him, making him gag. "What was that?" he hissed.

Kevin stared into Lionel's eyes. "I said, we're not friends," he stated boldly.

Immediately, Kevin wished that he could have taken it back.

Lionel crossed his arms menacingly. "Little Kev, that hurts my feelings!" he said.

"Yeah!" echoed his thugs.

Lionel turned to them. "Guys, I think we need to show little Kev here what we do to people who aren't our _friends."_

Sensing trouble, Kevin turned to run. He was grabbed from behind by two huge guys. "Lemme go!" he yelled.

He was dragged over to Lionel; his hands pinned behind his back. He struggled to break free, but he was hit in the gut by someone's huge fist. The wind was knocked out of him and he fell to the ground.

"Want more?" Lionel laughed, kicking him in the face.

Kevin felt his nose crack when Lionel's shoe met it with a crunch. There was a warm sensation as he felt the blood flow from his nose. "Stop!" he begged.

"Sorry, little Kev!" said one of Lionel's friends, "but we're not your friends!"

There was laughter as someone pulled him to his feet. His vision was clouded and he could only see the outline of his attackers.

Someone kicked him in the shins and he fell back onto the dirt ground. He was punched and kicked until he finally lost consciousness.

He woke up hours later. It was dark and he had no idea where he was. When the smell hit him, he realized that he was in a dumpster. His entire body ached and there was dried blood all over him.

Kevin stumbled out of the dumpster and read his watch. 3:21 AM. His dad was going to kill him! Then, he bent down and vomited all over the ground.

His glasses were missing so he walked home in a blur.

When he opened the screen door to his house, his dad pounced on him.

"My god, who did this to you, Kevin?" he said, examining his son's face. His one eye was black and his nose was broken.

Kevin couldn't speak; his lips were cut open and puffy. His dad sat him down a chair and cleaned him up. He flinched when the rubbing alcohol touched his open cuts, but his dad held him still.

As soon as Kevin was all bandaged up, Mr. Ryan took his son to the backyard and stood him in the middle of the yard. "I'm going to teach you how to fight, son," he said.

Kevin stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

His dad shook his head and showed him how to stand; his legs shoulder length apart, his arms up to protect his face.

He showed Kevin how to put his entire weight behind his punch and hit his attackers where it would hurt the most. By the end of the lesson, his dad was confident that his son could take down Rocky.

The next day at school, Kevin was standing at his locker talking to one of his friends from the debate team, Harris. Harris was even tinier than Kevin was, but he was one of the nicest people in the entire world.

Out of the corner of his one eye that wasn't black, Kevin saw Lionel and his crew approaching. They were all pale and probably nursing nasty hangovers.

Lionel stopped in front of them. "Didn't get enough last night, Kev? We should start calling you Trashy Kev!"

A couple of his buddies laughed, but immediately stopped when it made their heads pound.

Kevin and Harris smirked when he saw the thugs rub their temples.

Lionel turned on Harris. "What are you looking at, punk?" he said, shoving Harris against the lockers.

Harris looked terrified, but Kevin stood firm. "You _don't _talk to him like that." He growled at Lionel, sizing him up.

Lionel laughed at him. "When did you get so bold, little Kev?"

Kevin gritted his teeth and swung. His fist made contact with Lionel's nose and he could feel the bone break under his hand. Lionel stumbled and fell. Kevin pounced on him and started beating him, punching and kicking him in the torso, arms, and face. He lost control of what he was doing, but he knew that it felt good. He was defending himself and someone he cared about.

A crowd grew around them, egging them on. For once, Lionel's pals stood by, doing nothing to help him. Kevin didn't understand why they weren't pummeling him when a large hand grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him off of a bleeding and crying Lionel.

The Brooklyn High principal dragged him away from the fight and down to his office.

Within the hour, he was taken to the local police station where he was charged with battery and assault.

Kevin didn't care. He had protected his friend from a bully, and that was enough for him.


	2. Chapter 2

Ryan snapped out of his flashback. Someone was tapping on his window calling his name.

_Tap, tap, tap, _"Ryan!" _Tap, tap, tap, _"Ryan!" _Tap, tap, tap, _"Earth to Ryan! Calling detective Ryan! There's a homicide out here!" It was Castle, grinning down at him, bundled in a long wool coat and scarf.

Ryan forced a smile. "Be right there," he called.

Castle gave him a goofy grin, putting his thumb and forefinger together in the 'OK' sign.

He chuckled to himself. _You gotta love Castle, _he thought. Rick Castle was just the type of person who would have picked on Ryan in high school. He was handsome, popular, talented, and clever; everything that Ryan wasn't. But he knew that Castle was never like that. He was probably the nice guy that everyone loved and all the girls wanted their parents to meet.

Ryan climbed out of the cruiser and walked over to where Castle and Beckett were standing, feeling like he's interrupting something when he's near them.

"Hey," said Beckett.

"Nice of you to join us," said Castle.

Ryan nodded, biting his lip and stared down at Daniel's body.

Beckett crinkled her brow. "What's wrong?"

Ryan looked up at her, wondering how she always knew when he was having a rough day. Beckett was stunningly beautiful, not the type of woman you would expect to be a homicide detective. With at least three inches on him and huge hazel eyes, all the men at the precinct were infatuated with her. She was just the kind of girl he would lust after normally, but he had never thought of her that way. Ryan saw her more as his sister or… well, his partner.

He shook his head. "Nothing, don't worry about it."

Beckett nodded, respecting his space, but she knew that something was up.

Ryan cleared his throat. "So, I ran a background check on Josh Graham, our vic's bully. He has quite the record: B&E, DUI, possession of drugs, shoplifting, and most importantly of all, four counts of assault."

"So he's beaten people up before," said Castle. "Maybe this time, his punching bag didn't hold up as long as his other victims."

"Poor guy," said Beckett. She cringed; thinking about how many hits the kid must have taken before dying.

"I know," Ryan said, thinking the same thing.

Lanie stood up. "Well, if Josh Graham was the one who did it, he had help."

"What do you mean?" asked Beckett.

"The size of the bruises show that at least three different sets of hands hit poor Daniel, here," said Lanie, pointing to the black and blue marks with her Bic Pen.

"I know teenage boys," said Ryan, "they don't attack alone. The alpha needs his betas to back him up, give him support."

Castle twitched, "sounds like Regina George from Mean Girls."

"Watch that often, do ya, Castle?" said Esposito, arriving late at the scene.

"Hey, I have a teenage daughter, I know all about Mean Girls," Castle said in his defense.

Espo rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, well, girls and guys have two different kinds of 'mean'," said Beckett, kneeling to examine the body.

"That's right, emotionally mean and physically mean," said Ryan. "Both pack a pretty mean punch."

Beckett turned to him. "Pick up Graham and see who else he hangs out with." Turning to Lanie, she said, "See if you can get a prints off of the body."

Lanie shook her head. "Sorry, girl, I have feeling that I won't be able to. It's nearly January and it's below freezing. I'm willing to bet that his attackers were wearing gloves. You'd be crazy not to in this weather."

"Alright, then we'll just have to see what Graham has to say," said Beckett.

"Actually," Ryan said quickly. "Would it be okay if I interrogated Graham? I just have a feeling that I'll be able to reach this kid."

Beckett looked at him, her eyes flitting over his. "Okay," she nodded, "sure."

Ryan hurried to his cruiser to pick up Josh Graham.


	3. Chapter 3

Ryan pulled up outside a large Victorian house. There was a huge willow tree out front that cast a shadow over the yard. At the base of the tree, was a Manhattan Prep basketball sign with "Graham" hyphen "CAPTAIN" printed on it in blue letters. There was a basketball hoop nailed above the garage with a glass backboard.

He took a deep breath before knocking on the wood door. He instinctively laid a hand on his holster as he waited. After thirty seconds, he knocked again. "NYPD, open up!" Hearing footsteps inside, he stopped knocking.

A large man in a dress shirt and tie answered the door.

"NYPD, Mr. Graham," said Ryan, showing his badge. "I'm looking for your son."

The man looked Ryan up and down. Deciding he wasn't worth his time, he started shutting the door. "I don't know any Grahams." He was taken by surprise when Ryan put a hand on the door and stopped him with surprising strength.

Ryan shoved the door open. "Really?" He said, taking a step forwards.

"Really," said the man, blocking the doorway.

Ryan smirked. "That's weird," he said, tapping his chin with his forefinger, "because I see a lawn sign under your willow with your last name on it."

Mr. Graham rolled his eyes and let Ryan in.

"I thought so," said Ryan, entering the foyer. It was an exquisite house with marble floors and a crystal chandelier. All of the furniture was antique and polished to a shine.

"JOSHUA! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE; THE POLICE IS HERE TO TALK TO YOU!" Mr. Graham shouted up the stairs.

"TELL THEM I'M NOT HERE!" Josh yelled from his room.

Ryan could hear him shuffling around upstairs. _Not too bright, are you, Josh?_ He moved towards the stairs. "I know you're here, Josh, running just makes you look guilty," Ryan said.

A tall teenager with the same build as his father appeared at the banister. "What do you want?"

Ryan flashed his badge. "NYPD, I need to take you in for questioning."

Josh glanced at his father who shook his head. Then, he turned on his heel and ran down the hall.

Ryan bounded up the stairs after him, drawing his gun. He saw Josh disappear into the last door on the left.

As Ryan entered the room, he found the window open. He stuck his head out and saw Josh trying to balance as he shuffled precariously across the steep roof.

Ryan bolted back down the stairs and out the door. He found a black Camero with a basketball bumper sticker parked in the side driveway. He casually leaned up against the car as Josh leaped off the roof and hit the pavement with a thud. Ryan nodded coolly at him.

Josh's face filled with panic as he turned to run again, but his father stopped him. His dad had come out of nowhere, blindsiding him as he turned the corner of the house.

Mr. Graham grabbed his son by the ear and dragged him over to Ryan. "Sorry about him," he said to Ryan as he slapped the cuffs on his son.

Graham smacked his son upside the head. "Son," he said, "I don't know what you did, but you're going to cooperate with the police, you hear me? You're going to straighten this out, understand?"

Josh gritted his teeth and stared at his shoes.

"I said, do you _understand?_" Graham said, crossing his arms.

"Yes, sir," said Josh.

Graham nodded, "Call me if you need a lawyer son," he said walking away. "Good day, detective," he said to Ryan.

"Thanks for your help," said Ryan.

Graham held a hand up in response.

Ryan opened the cruiser door for Josh and pushed him in. "Watch your head."

Josh grunted as his head hit the frame.

"Whoops, so sorry," Ryan said with a smirk.

Josh grumbled something incoherent.

Ryan read him his rights and drove off to the 12th.

Ryan sat across from the surly teenager in the interrogation room.

Josh was slouched in his chair, his arms crossed and staring at the table.

"Josh, do you know why you're here?" asked Ryan, giving him the chance to confess.

Josh shook his head.

"I understand that there was some beef between you and a certain Daniel Wagner," said Ryan. "You know him?"

"No idea who he is," said Josh, sourly.

"Is that so?"

Josh nodded.

"Because Mr. and Mrs. Wagner said that you and Daniel used to be best friends. Before you became the basketball star and Daniel kept to his studies," said Ryan, folding his hands across the table.

"Okay, we _used _to be friends, but why does that matter?" asked Josh, glaring at Ryan.

"I'll be asking the questions here," he said. "So according to your principal, you had been suspended a few times for beating up some kids. Tell me about that."

"Yeah, I hit some nerds around a few times. But they all deserved it," said Josh, sitting up in the chair.

"Just like Daniel Wagner deserved to be murdered?" asked Ryan.

Josh's jaw went slack. "What are you talking about?"

Ryan rolled his eyes. "Don't play dumb."

"I'm not!" said Josh, sounding scared now. "I didn't kill Daniel! Sure, I was mean to him, but I wouldn't _kill _him! We were just having some fun!"

Ryan stood up, towering over Josh. "Bullying people is not _fun_, Graham. You have no idea what it's like to be on the other end, do you?"

Josh remained silent, gritting his teeth.

"I bet that you made Daniel the school's punching bag didn't you? I'll bet that every day, you shoved him in the halls, and said things about him to make sure that no one liked him! You and your friends would gather around him, just to make him miserable, is that right?"

Josh looked at him. "Yeah," he said quietly. "We did. But he deserved it."

Ryan shoved him back in his chair.

Josh scooted back, putting as much space as he could between him and the fuming detective.

"No one. Deserves. To be treated that way," Ryan growled. "You have no idea what it's like, Josh, to be ridiculed every single goddamn day; to be terrified to go to school. Why did you pick on him, Josh? Just because he was smart? Because you were bigger and more popular than him? What's your excuse Josh? Tell me that, what is your excuse?" He was now inches away from the kid, the sharp smell of his Axe aftershave made his nose twitch.

Josh stared at his hands.

Ryan snapped. He planted his palms in the middle of his chest and shoved him hard. Josh went toppling out of his chair and he sat on the floor, shaking. "You have no excuse, you coward! You just did it to make yourself feel better," he hissed, "and now Daniel is dead, because you and your buddies decided to beat him to death on the school basketball court. Just… to have… a little… _fun_." He shoved Josh again and he hit the wall.

The interrogation room door banged open and Beckett stormed in. "That's enough," she said, grabbing Ryan by the arm. He jerked away from her.

"I didn't kill him," said Josh, "and even if I did, you can't prove it."

Before Beckett could stop him, Ryan lunged at Josh, pinning him up against the wall. Josh whimpered; squeezing his eyes shut. "You're a goddamn coward, Josh. I know that you killed Daniel, and I will stop at nothing until I'm able to haul your ass to juvie."

Esposito hurried into the room. He and Beckett pulled him out into the pen and forced him into a chair.

"Relax, bro, you got him," said Espo.

"Don't tell me to relax, he killed Daniel," he snarled, breathing heavily. "And the worst part is that we have no evidence against him."

"We'll get it, don't worry," said Beckett.

Espo studied him. "Why don't you take the day off? Go get a drink or take Jenny out to lunch."

Ryan shook his head. "I'm not taking the day off."

"Detective Esposito," Gates called from her office. She motioned for him to come in.

Espo walked off, giving Ryan a reassuring pat on the back as he left.

When they were alone, Beckett sat in the chair across from him. "So what happened?" she asked. He knew that she wasn't referring to the interrogation.

Ryan took a deep breath and told her about what happened in high school.

Beckett was silent the entire time, listening intently, her chin in her hand.

"And that's why I became a cop," he concluded. When he finished, he felt ten times better.

"Thanks for telling me," Beckett said, putting her hand over his. "I know how you feel," she said quietly.

Ryan stared at her.

"You feel like this case is personal to you, that you're defending Daniel because that used to be you, the victim."

He nodded. "Yeah. That's how it is with every case."

"I think you need to take the day off; start off fresh tomorrow," she said.

"I think… you're right," said Ryan, standing up. "Thanks." He turned to go, but Beckett grabbed his hand.

"Ryan," she said, studying him. "I know what you're going to do."

He looked away from her.

She nodded. "Just be careful."

The corner of his mouth twitched, and he pulled away from her. He could feel her eyes boring into his back as he walked to the elevator.


	4. Chapter 4

Ryan pulled out of the precinct parking lot and headed south to Manhattan Prep. It was exactly 3:20 according to his watch. School would have just let out and sports practices were getting started.

He parked the cruiser in front of the school and hurried into the front office. The woman at the desk was busy talking on the phone, but hung up when he saw Ryan enter.

"May I help you, sir?" she asked, setting the phone back in its cradle.

Ryan flashed his badge. "NYPD, I need to talk to one of your coaches."

The secretary handed him the visitor's sign in sheet. "Is this about the Wagner boy?"

Ryan scribbled down a false name on the sign in. He didn't need this visit getting back to Gates. She would fire him before he could say "Whoops". "Yes it is, and it's crucial that I talk to the basketball coach."

The secretary handed him a visitor's pass and directed him towards the gym.

He looked through the small postage stamp window of the gymnasium before entering. There were tall guys in blue and white reversible practice jerseys shooting free throws and doing layups.

A short man with a spare tire stood in the middle of the floor with his hands on his flabby hips; a whistle rested in his mouth. There was a ketchup stain on his blue polo shirt and there were crumbs in his beard. This was head basketball coach, Adam Fisher.

Ryan jogged up to him, avoiding the sweaty players as they jogged by. "Coach Fisher?" he said, offering his hand. "Detective Ryan, NYPD."

Coach Fisher stared at his hand, but didn't shake it. "Gotta badge, son?"

Ryan sighed and showed him the badge, annoyed that he had just been called 'son' by a man the same age as him and half his size.

Fisher eyed the tin. "Looks fake to me," he said gruffly.

Ryan pocketed the badge again. "Yeah, well it's real. You got a minute? I need to talk to you." Normally, he wouldn't be so kind to this guy, but since he was technically off duty, he had no right to be questioning anybody. He didn't want a call being made to the 12th.

"No," said Coach Fisher, blowing his whistle. "TEN SUICIDES, LADIES!" he hollered at his players.

Every single one of them let out a loud groan.

"MAKE THAT TWENTY!" Fisher yelled.

The players lined up at half court and started running.

"Just a few questions, I promise," said Ryan.

Fisher rolled his eyes as if Ryan were his pesky little brother. "Fine, make it quick." He led them off to his office, which was really a supply closet with a desk in it.

Ryan shut the door behind him and took the wooden seat across from the desk. "Josh Graham, your star center-"

"Good kid, great skills," said Fisher, leaning back in his chair and lighting a cigarette.

"Yeah, well, he was arrested this morning on a murder charge," said Ryan.

Fisher nearly fell out of his chair. "What?! You arrested my star player? I have a playoff game coming up, I need him on the court!" He said turning pale.

Ryan dismissed it. "Does Josh have two really good friends? Ones that he's always with?"

Fisher thought for a moment. "Anything I say will only dig his hole deeper. I need Graham out of the slammer ASAP, so I ain't sayin nothin', son."

Ryan glared at him. "This isn't about a game, someone is dead, Coach Fisher, this is far more serious than a basketball playoff. And I can have you arrested for withholding information, so you can either tell me what I want to know now, or at the station." His threat was empty; there was no way he could take Fisher in for interrogation. Luckily, he took the bait.

"Okay, okay, no need to get worked up here," Fisher said quickly. He sighed. "Fisher has two best friends; they're sort of his sidekicks. They do _everything _together."

_Including murdering people_, thought Ryan.

"Their names are Derrick Hoy and Trevor Young," said Fisher. "They're co-captains of my team."

Ryan jotted their names down. "Are they practicing right now?"

"Yeah, they're right there," said Fisher, nodding to two boys in the middle of the court.

The team had finished their suicides and now they doing some sort of shooting drill. Hoy and Young stood off to the side, yelling at the others when a player would miss a shot. One of them, the shorter of the two, even took a ball and threw it at a teammate's head when he missed an easy layup. The two took turns towering over the player and yelling at him.

"Nice kids," said Fisher.

"Charmers," Ryan said, striding over to the players. "Hey," he said when the two started shoving the other boy. "That's enough, break it up," he said, placing himself between them.

"Who's this-" he called Ryan an explicit name.

Ryan smirked as he flashed tin. He loved how showing the badge always gave him the upper hand. "Detective Kevin Ryan, NYPD. I have a few questions for you two."

He took each boy one at a time to a secluded corner of the gym.

"Name?" asked Ryan.

"Derrick Hoy, forward," he said proudly. His position on the court was practically part of his name.

"Where were you between eight and ten last night?"

"I was at the library," said Hoy smartly.

Ryan scoffed. "I highly doubt that."

Hoy frowned. "Why? Because I'm athletic, I can't be smart?"

Ryan looked at him questioningly.

Hoy smiled. "Actually, you're right, I'm not smart."

Ryan nodded.

"That's why I was there being _tutored_,"he said smugly.

"Is that so?"

"Yup."

"So you wouldn't mind me checking your alibi."

"Nope." Hoy gave him the name of his alleged tutor.

Ryan noted that Hoy hadn't asked why he was being questioned, almost like he knew why Ryan was there; a sure sign of guiltiness.

"Your coach says that you are really good friends with Trevor Young and Josh Graham," said Ryan.

"So?"

"Do you do a lot together?"

"Yeah."

"Were you with them last night?"

"Yeah."

"You just said that you were being tutored last night," Ryan said.

"I was being tutored being tutored from eight to ten," said Hoy. "From ten to one I was with Graham and Young and some of the girls from the field hockey team."

"I'll be asking those girls about that too," said Ryan.

"Be my guest," said Hoy, grinning stupidly.

"And if I ask Young the same thing, will he vouch for that?"

Hoy hesitated for a moment too long. "Yeahhhh."

"I hope that your alibi checks out, or you'll be spending the night with other convicts behind bars instead of with field hockey girls."

Hoy frowned. "Oh."

Young wasn't quite as cooperative with Ryan as his friend had been.

"Where were you between ten and one last night?" asked Ryan.

Young stared down at him. He was at least two feet taller than the detective and twice as muscular. "Out," he muttered vaguely.

"Who were you with?"

"Hoy."

"Who else?"

Young didn't say anything; choosing instead to take the chance to examine the brick wall behind Ryan.

"Who _else?" _Ryan repeated.

"No one, that's it," said Young, readjusting his footing.

"Is that so? Because your friend, Hoy told me that you were with Graham and some girls from the field hockey team," said Ryan, knowing that he had Young right where he wanted him. After catching either Hoy or Young lying, one of them would talk to avoid misinformation charges.

Young rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. "Okay, we were with Graham."

"No field hockey girls?"

Young scoffed. "Hoy _wishes_."

Ryan rolled his eyes. "So what _were _you doing?"

Young shuffled his feet and pulled at the collar of his jersey. "Playing some ball."

"At ten o'clock at night?" Ryan asked, not believing a word that he said.

"We have a playoff game coming up. The three of us needed some practice," said Young.

"Where were you playing?"

"At the school's court."

Ryan nodded. "Did you see anyone else there?"

Young winced. "Yeah."

"Who?"

"Some geek."

"What did he look like?"

Young thought for a minute. "Dark hair, glasses, ugly sweater."

_Daniel._ "What was he doing there?" asked Ryan.

Young shrugged. "He was with some girl."

This took Ryan by surprise. "Did you know who she was?"

He laughed. "_Everyone_ knows who she is."

Ryan looked at him.

"Megan Pyle, homecoming queen."

_What was Daniel Wagner doing at the basketball court late at night with the homecoming queen?_ Ryan wondered.

Suddenly, pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. "Did you talk to them?" asked Ryan.

"I'm not saying anything else," said Young.

As Ryan left the high school, he texted Beckett.

"Int. Derrick Hoy, Trevor Young. Ask Graham about GF, Megan Pyle."

"On it," Beckett responded.


	5. Chapter 5

Ryan sat in his living room with his own improvised murder board spread out on his dining room table. Under suspects, were Polaroids of Graham, Hoy, and Young that were faxed to him from Beckett.

Beckett had interrogated all three of them again and had gotten the same information that he had; no more, no less.

"What about the girl Daniel was with, Megan?" Ryan asked Beckett over the phone. "Can you talk to her?"

"I've tried to reach her, but the neighbors say that she's out of town with her family right now," said Beckett.

Ryan groaned, rubbing his head. "Do we have anything against the three guys?"

"No," said Beckett. "Their alibis check out, they couldn't have done it. They were at a convenience store during the time frame of the murder."

He sighed and sat down heavily in a chair. "The guilty ones _always_ have an alibi."

"I know but-"

"Are you sure that their alibis are trustworthy?" Ryan interrupted.

"Well yeah, we can always check the security tapes too."

"Do that. In the meantime, we need to get in touch with Megan Pyle. It doesn't make sense that she was with Daniel. And even more strange that she was with him the night of his murder," said Ryan, putting a picture of Megan under the suspect list.

"Ryan, don't pull a Castle. If you get caught going rogue, Gates will fire you and you'll be off the case for good. Now, Espo talked to her and got you pardoned for your interrogation with Graham, but she says that you need to watch yourself from now on. She thinks that this case is too personal for you," Beckett whispered into the phone. Ryan knew that other people must be near her and she wasn't about to tell why the case was personal to him.

"Hell yeah, this case is personal," Ryan said angrily. "What is wrong with people that they need to be mean to others to make themselves feel better?"

"It's just the way the world works, Ryan."

"It _has _to be the three guys who did it," said Ryan.

"Why? I'm pretty sure they didn't do it, they have pretty good alibis."

"Because," he huffed, "if it's not them, then we have _nothing_. We have no evidence, no clues, no leads, _nothing. _It _has _to be them, or we're back where we started."

Beckett paused. "All right, I'll check into the alibis, but I'm not promising anything-"

"And I'll get in touch with Megan Pyle," he said.

"She's out of town, we have to wait for her to get back before she's within our control."

"I'll take care of it, don't worry," said Ryan.

"I don't like the sound of that," said Beckett. "Even if you were working today, you'd have no control over Pyle while she's out of town, we'd need to contact the PD where she is and have them contact her."

"I can handle it," he insisted.

Beckett didn't say anything.

"Call me when you get something," said Ryan, straightening his murder board.

"All right, and Ryan?" Beckett said.

"What?"

"Don't get caught."

"Never."

Ryan dialed Megan Pyle's cell phone.

"Megan," she answered.

"Hello, this is Detective Kevin Ryan of the NYPD-"

"Yes, I've already talked to your department. Detective… Bennett I think her name was?"

"Beckett," he corrected. "And I just have to ask you a few more questions."

Megan sighed. "Look, I'm on vacation right now and Detective Beckett said that it would be taken care of as soon as I got back to the city."

"It'll only take a few minutes. And if it gets resolved now, there will be no need for you to come in later," he insisted. He couldn't believe he was arguing with a teenage girl.

"Fine," she agreed.

"How did you know Daniel?" he asked, readying his pen and paper.

"He and I were lab partners in our honors Chem class," said Megan, snapping her gum.

"What were the two of you doing at the basketball courts last night?"

Megan hesitated. "Talking."

"What were you talking about?"

"It's complicated."

"Life's complicated. Just tell me what happened that night," he said.

"He and I were seeing each other-"

Ryan laughed. "Yeah, sure you were." He couldn't imagine nerdy Daniel being Megan's type.

"It's true!" she said, sounding offended. "He was a really nice guy."

Ryan frowned. "I thought you were dating Josh Graham."

"I am," she muttered. "I tried to break up with him and he got really angry…"

"Did he know you were with Daniel?" he asked.

"Yes. That's half the reason he was so mad; because he thought that Daniel was such a step down from him."

"Were you there when Daniel was killed?"

"I-" she began, then she sniffed.

Ryan could hear her quietly sobbing. "Megan, tell me what happened."

She composed herself. "Yeah, I was."

Ryan nodded, writing down her confession. "Did Josh's two friends help him? Kill him, I mean."

Megan paused, shaking her head. "What are you talking about? Josh didn't kill Daniel!"

"You're story is getting crazier and crazier, Megan."

"Josh didn't even touch Daniel! Josh was practicing his shooting with the two other guys when he saw us there. He was mad, and he yelled at Daniel, but I swear, Josh never touched him."

"That seems hard to believe considering he had beat Daniel up on every other occasion. So you're saying that yesterday, when there was no one around, Josh decided he didn't want to hurt Daniel for stealing you away?"

"That's what happened!"

Ryan sighed and rubbed his eyes. This case was giving him a major headache. "So who did kill him?"

"I don't know," Megan whispered.

"How do you not know?" Ryan asked.

"I couldn't see their faces, it was so dark out!" said Megan. "But there were three of them… they just came out of the trees and…" her voice broke. "We got so scared when we saw what they had done… we just ran!" she began crying again.

"And you didn't think of calling an ambulance for him?!" Ryan said angrily.

"You don't understand! We knew how it looked. Josh had the perfect motive for killing him and he was there when it happened. We knew they would blame it on him… so we ran," she sobbed.

"You know that a bystander is just as bad as the attacker," he said quietly.

"I know," she said. "I wish that I had done something now. I didn't think he was dead!"

"Did you tell detective Beckett this?" asked Ryan.

"No," she sniffed. "I thought it would blow over by the time I got back to town."

"Do you have any idea what these three guys looked like?" he asked.

"Like I said, it was dark. But they were tall, almost as tall as Josh and Trevor and Derrick."

That pretty much ruled out most of New York males. Those three boys were freakishly tall. "Thanks, Megan, you did the right thing."

"Detective?" said Megan. "Will you let me know when you catch the killer?"

"Of course," he said, hanging up.


	6. Chapter 6

Megan and the three other boys were there at the crime scene when Daniel died, but none of them actually killed him. It's a likely story. Josh Graham had a very clear motive for killing Daniel, but when the three other guys that Megan had mentioned actually did kill him; they all knew who would be blamed.

Ryan still didn't rule any of them out, considering that there were no other witnesses and Megan could just be covering for Josh.

So now the question was who were the three other guys there that night?

Megan had said that they were all as tall Graham, Hoy, and Young so they could be basketball players.

He thought about the team's upcoming playoff game. The winner would go on to the state championship and the winner of that meant big things for the winning team; big enough things that the opposing team would do anything they could to make sure that they win.

He dialed Coach Fisher's number and asked them who they would be facing in the playoff.

"Cutler High School. Why?" asked Fisher.

"How big of a deal is the championship game?" asked Ryan.

Fisher scoffed. "A _huge_ deal, detective. For some of these guys, it's their only chance of getting into a good college; on their basketball skills. I don't know if you've noticed, but none of these guys are all that smart."

Ryan nodded. "Just what I thought," he said, hanging up.

He scribbled "Cutler High Bball Team," on a Post-It and stuck it under "suspects"

Just then, he heard the front door open.

"Jenny?" he called.

"No, it's me," said Beckett, letting herself in.

"Oh, hey," said Ryan. "What are you doing here?" he asked, moving in front of his murder board.

"I came to see what you found," she said, pushing him aside to get a look at his table. "Huh, weird. I have one of these in my apartment," she muttered.

"I bet we all do," Ryan replied with a small smile.

Beckett pointed to his "suspects" column. "Why is the Cutler High team here?" she asked.

"Because they might have tried to frame Graham, Hoy, and Young on Daniel's murder to make sure they couldn't play in the game next week," said Ryan.

She bit her lip, thinking. "Do you really think high school boys would go that far to win a game?"

"You never know with teens these days."

"What about Megan, did you get a hold of her?" asked Beckett.

He filled her in on his conversation with Megan.

"Wow. He might have survived if they had just called the police," she said, shaking her head.

"I know," said Ryan, "that's what sucks about it. And that's also why I'm not moving any of them off of the suspect list."

Beckett nodded. "We checked security footage from the camera on the side of the school. You can see the three guys practicing on the side court and Daniel with Megan on the other side. The camera pans a different direction every minute and-"

"So we can't see who killed Daniel?"

She sighed. "Exactly. You just see the guys walking up to Daniel and Megan and start yelling, but then the camera pans. When it goes back to the court, all you see is Daniel's body and the four of them running away."

"You didn't see the guys coming from the trees?" asked Ryan.

"I didn't know about that until now, but I'll check into it. CSU couldn't find any other prints, and from the security footage, it looks like Graham is guilty."

Ryan and Beckett were leaning over the table, shoulder to shoulder, going over the facts.

"What's going on?" asked Jenny, walking into the room.

Both of them jumped.

"Hey, honey," said Ryan.

"Hi, Jenny," said Beckett.

Ryan gave her a kiss.

"Hello, Beckett," Jenny said coldly.

They stood there in an awkward silence, Jenny staring at Beckett and Ryan staring at Jenny.

Beckett rocked back and forth on her heels. "Well, I better get going," she said. "I'll let you know when I go over the tapes again," she said. She put a hand on Ryan's shoulder as she passed him.

"Alright," he said.

She showed herself out.

When they heard the door close, Jenny turned to him, her arms crossed. "What are you doing home?"

"I got the day off," he shrugged.

"I'm sure you did," she said sarcastically.

"I did!" he insisted.

"Then what was _she _doing here?" Jenny pointed to the door where Beckett just was.

"Who? Beckett? She was helping me with the case!" said Ryan.

"I thought you said you had the day off," said Jenny, raising an eyebrow.

"I did! I-" he stuttered. "Look, this case is important to me. That's why I'm still working on it."

"Oh, sure, Kevin. And on your day off, you didn't even _think _to call me to do something together?" she said angrily, moving out into the kitchen.

He trailed behind her. "No, because I was preoccupied with this case!"

She whirled around to face him, her hair smacking him in the eye. "And it has nothing to do with you hanging out with Beckett while you thought I wasn't home?"

Ryan shrugged his shoulders, pointed to the door, then pointed to Jenny. "I-you-what?!" he stammered. "Beckett-"

Jenny shook her head. "No, I get it! You think Beckett's attractive. If there's anyone in the world you could cheat on me with, I'm _glad _it's Beckett and not some stupid whore."

Ryan stared at her, his mouth agape. He had no idea where she had come to that conclusion.

Jenny slapped him. "Ugh!" she screamed. "I just want to _kill _you right now!"

That statement made him realize something. "You just want to kill me," he muttered to himself.

"What?!" Jenny said, looking at him like he was insane.

Ryan shook his head. "Never mind. Look, sweetheart. I would never cheat on you; not in a million years. Not in a billion years. You're the only one I love. Beckett's like my sister and we're partners, but nothing more."

Jenny calmed down. "Are you sure?"

"Of course," he said, wrapping his arms around her. "I love you; forever and always."

She smiled. "I'm sorry. I know I get jealous a lot."

He pulled away. "You just helped me make a _huge _breakthrough with this case!" he said, pulling his phone out. "I gotta tell Beck-"

She glared at him.

He smiled sheepishly. "I mean… I gotta tell _Esposito_ what I found."

She patted him on the back and left him to make his call.

"Hey, Beckett," he whispered.

"Why are you whispering?" she asked loudly.

He shook his head. "Long story. Can you meet me outside the precinct in twenty minutes?"


	7. Chapter 7

Beckett was standing on the stairs of the 12th when he pulled up in his cruiser.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Megan lured Daniel to the court that night because she knew that Josh would be there," said Ryan.

Beckett crossed her arms. "Why would she do that?"

"Because she knew how it would look to the police."

She gave him a questioning stare.

Ryan tried to organize his thoughts. "Everyone knew that Josh was jealous when Megan started hooking up with Daniel."

"Yeah."

"So she and those three other guys were working together. She knew that if Daniel suddenly ended up dead, Josh would be blamed," said Ryan.

Beckett nodded. "And not her."

"Exactly," said Ryan.

"Why would she put Daniel in danger if she was really with him?" asked Beckett.

Ryan grinned. "Because Megan wasn't with Daniel willingly. Think about it, why would a girl like Megan be dating a loser like Daniel?"

Beckett shrugged. "Maybe she liked his brains."

He shook his head. "Megan wouldn't go from Josh Graham to Daniel Wagner, it just doesn't fit," said Ryan. "Daniel was blackmailing her. She wanted him out of her life because two can keep a secret if one of them is dead."

Beckett closed her eyes to take a moment to think. "Those three other guys who did the dirty work; they were working with Megan…"

"Yes, but they weren't in it to get Daniel, they were in it to get Graham, Young, and Hoy because they didn't want to face them in the playoffs," said Ryan. "Those three knew that if the other team's star players were locked up, they would be a shoe-in for the state championships."

"We need to check Megan's phone records and look into the security footage," said Beckett. "The tech department is doing everything they can to up the resolution on the footage, but it's still pretty grainy; you can't see anyone's faces."

Ryan started to head inside. "I'll work on it with them."

Beckett blocked the door. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to work on the footage."

"Gates will flip."

"C'mon, how's she going to know if I'm working in tech?"

She looked from side to side. "If she asks, I had nothing to do with it."

"Done."

For the three hour, he was holed up in a tiny room with the cute tech intern, Amanda. She seemed fidgety with him breathing over her shoulder as she edited the footage.

At the second hour, one of the uniforms brought him a file. "From Beckett," he said simply.

It was Megan's phone records.

Beckett had highlighted the ones that Daniel had sent her. He was definitely blackmailing her.

**Daniel**: I know your secret. Meet me outside the school on Monday or I'll tell everyone you cheated.

**Megan**: Like hell I will.

**Daniel**: Don't tell your boyfriend or the photos will go viral.

**Megan**: U have nothing on me.

**Daniel**: Try me.

There were also texts from Megan to some guy named Lucas Portman making plans to meet at the courts the night of Daniel's murder.

**Megan:** How badly do u want to win the game?

**Lucas:** Why?

**Megan**: I can guarantee u a win= free ride to college.

**Lucas:** I'm listening.

**Megan**: I need you to help me with something first. Meet me at my school; make sure no one sees you.

Lucas sent her a text a day later.

**Lucas:** The other two are in. You're sure this plan will work?

**Megan:** Positive.

**Lucas:** And no one's going to get seriously hurt, right?

**Megan**: Of course not. You just do what I said and no one will ever find out.

Ryan showed the papers to Amanda. "This is enough to convict them!" He said excitedly.

"Cool," Amanda murmured. As she lowered the pixilation. "Well, here's your other two partners in crime."

Ryan squinted at the screen and was taken aback by what he saw. "That doesn't make sense."

"What?" asked Amanda.

"I've seen them before," Ryan muttered. The two other boys were from Manhattan Prep. He had seen them practicing with the team when he had gone to talk to Coach Fisher. One of the boys was the player who Hoy had been screaming at when he missed a layup. It made sense: Lucas was from the opposing team who wanted to frame the star players of Manhattan Prep so they couldn't play. The other two were victims of the relentless trio of captains who were fed up of being kicked around at practice. Megan was the girl who was tired of being blackmailed. It all fit perfectly except for one thing.


End file.
